


Remembrance

by nikilah



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: (Rogue!Hawke and Bethany which means Carver died before Kirkwall), Fenhawke is like SLIGHT. THE SUBTLEST OF IMPLICATIONS, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this a while back and touched it up for posting, Multi, My Hawke has social anxiety just so you know, Since I'm offering art and writing commissions really soon, Warning: Conversations surrounding a dead sibling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 20:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7189145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikilah/pseuds/nikilah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt, 'Write a piece about someone refurbishing something old'. I wanted to write something that involved Hawke and Merrill’s friendship, and also about the effect of Carver’s death on Hawke and Bethany, since I feel that it’s a thing less explored than Bethany’s death (though I could be wrong!) And so this fic came to be!</p>
<p>Hawke struggles to fix a damaged pendant (among other things), until he bumps into Merrill in Lowtown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

It’s already late in the morning, but Hawke feels none of the wakefulness that should have settled in by this hour. He thinks of the night before, a fight with a band of Tal-Vashoth along the Wounded Coast. If it weren’t for Aveline’s shield and Bethany’s healing magic, Aaron suspects they wouldn’t have left just bruised and fatigued.

After suppressing a yawn, and accidentally stumbling into a middle-aged Lowtowner carrying a basket of worn scarves (He says some combination of “oh Maker” and “I’m terribly sorry” about fourteen times before the woman manages to convince him it isn’t a big deal) he reaches the trinket emporium.

“What might you fancy, serah?” the trinketmonger quips, her moonstone-like eyes sparkling with both wile and amicability. “I have the finest opal pendants and earrings, perhaps for a good lady or beloved family member? Or you might prefer the tiger’s eye, all the rage these days.”

Hawke decides not to mention the tiger’s eye fragments he’s found in sacks littered throughout Darktown. “I, uhm, would like something repaired actually, if you do that, that is. It’s alright if you don’t, I was just wondering if you did…do it…..,” he trails off. Mentally kicking himself, he hands over the necklace without another word.

The trinketmonger looks reluctant, but accepts it and examines the damaged thing. At one point during the fight, Hawke had dived out of a Tal-Vashoth axeman’s swinging range, performing a sort of barrel roll somersault manoeuvre. He’d escaped unscathed, but the pendant threaded on his neck hadn’t been nearly as lucky. 

The red-haired lady shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry serah, the thing looks beyond repair.” Hawke doesn’t want to believe it, and begins to open his mouth, but she interrupts him “If it’s that important, go see one of those fancy tinkerers in Hightown. Otherwise you should take better care of such things.”

He’s upset enough that he almost wants to argue, but his nerves get the better of him. A quick ‘thank you’ later, he’s back on his way to Gamlen’s dump- house, a sigh escaping the lips on his lowered head. He recalls how angry Bethany had been when she saw the necklace. “I thought you said you wouldn’t wear it!” He almost doesn’t notice the chirpy voice that speaks in front of him. “Hello Hawke!”

He looks up to see Merrill, her cheeks rosy pink from the slight nip of cold brought by the Waking Sea, seeping through the town’s cracks and crevices. She has a small but bright smile on her face.

“Oh, hello Merrill,” Hawke replies, surprised but not too unpleasantly so. Of course, Gamlen’s hove- house was just a flight of stairs away from the alienage. He hadn’t seen Merrill since he’d visited her in her new home days ago, and wondered why he hadn’t until now. He tries to put on a plausible “just another day!” face and asks how she is.

“I’m fine, ma serannas. Oh, thank you very much! I’m sorry, five days later and I still think I’m in Sundermount…what is that in your hand, Hawke?” Merrill adds in quickly, looking at the necklace he held tightly. Too late to hide it now.

“It’s…..a thing of mine. Got broken in a fight last night,” he offers. Merrill looks at him curiously, and he averts his gaze. He can’t tell someone he’d barely gotten to meet about a deeply sentimental (and now broken) accessory. It wouldn’t mean anything to her, right? But maybe she’d noticed his despondent look from before, and was already judging him for being upset over an old ugly pend-

“May I have a look at it? Oh, it’s not rude is it? To ask for something so directly?” Hawke’s thrown off-guard by her stumbling questions. “Oh no, it’s fine! Really.” He finds himself passing the necklace over to Merrill’s slight hands.

Her hands turn the silverite mabari round and round, gently with her slim fingers. It was dull and tarnished after many years of sun and sweat, from farm work, sparring with village boys in the mud, fighting a war. And now, after last night’s fight, the pendant was bent inwards at the mabari’s hindquarters.

Something, maybe the way Merrill’s words had unravelled the same way his do, prompts Hawke to speak. “It was Carver’s. My brother’s.” The fingers stop turning as she looks at him again. “You have a brother? I don’t think I’ve seen him around the town, only your sister.”

He shifts his footing awkwardly. “He….died. On the way here from Ferelden.”

Silence, and it’s Merrill’s turn to look down. She looks ashamed. “Ir abelas,” she says softly, then catches herself. “I’m so sorry. It didn’t occur to me…this necklace must be very important, then.”

Hawke’s sorry too. He knows why he’d cut the woven cord from his dead brother’s neck, after the others had walked ahead, but that didn’t make it any less painful. When Bethany had turned back and saw what he’d done, he’d seen hurt and yearning and understanding cross her face all at once. And later on the ship bound for Kirkwall, they’d looked at the pendant together, mourning, and promised neither one of them would wear it. He’d tried not to think about that when he slipped on the necklace the night before. He tried to think about Carver, either.

“No, I, I didn’t make it clear.” The silence stretches between them, and Hawke feels a sensation in his chest, like an overfilled bucket about to spill.

Merrill mumbles something about buying food, and it takes more than a few back and forth apologies, but soon they’re saying goodbyes, and Merrill’s about to leave for the marketplace herself. But just before Merrill leaves, she asks, “Hawke? He turns around. “May I borrow the necklace for a little while? Not to wear it, of course! But I might be able to repair it, if you’ll just give me a few days. I think.”

Hawke, surprised, considers the offer. He’s grateful, but could he trust her with it? Even if he’s doubtful she knows how to repair the pendant, she probably couldn’t make it any worse either, but why would she do this much for him? And what if he didn’t get it back? She could be selling it to someone in the alienage for all he knew. But he thinks back to how she muddled her words, the attention and worry she gave every sentence, like him, and he knows he wouldn’t sell off something this important. And he really really wants it fixed. He lets her keep the necklace.

“Thank you, Hawke.” Merrill turns to leave, but Hawke feels compelled to say one more thing. “Merrill? I don’t mind actually if you speak elvish around me.”

The way her eyes light up just about removes any doubt of her kindness.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

When Hawke enters the house, he finds Bethany waiting for him. He’d thought she was out with Uncle Gamlen and Mother, but evidently she hadn’t been. Her arms are crossed. “Why did you give Merrill the necklace?”

“Y-you saw that?” He doesn’t want to talk about it now, especially not with Bethany. “She just said she could get it repaired, and I – I trust her enough with it,” he explains, agitated. Bethany shakes her head. “Trust her? With Carver’s necklace?”

“..Yes.”

“But why her?!”

“Because she doesn’t seem like the type who would sell off something like that-”

“You’ve barely met her, Aaron!” Bethany throws back, stepping forward. “This isn’t some little trinket you found in a barrel. It was Carver’s!” Her voice rises at her twin’s name, and he winces. Bethany seems to pause, and then she breathes out a long sigh, like she’s lost the will to be furious. She leans against the knotted wooden wall and fixes her eyes on the floor, lips pursed and eyes glistening.

Hawke can feel the backs of his own eyes prickling. He swallows. “I didn’t…I’m sorry Bethany. I know I shouldn’t have worn it. I just….I just…I miss him, Bethany.” Bethany has a tear running down her cheek now, but his confession is enough to make her look at him again. This is precisely why he didn’t want to talk about it, but his mouth isn’t listening to him anymore. “I miss him and I should’ve, I wish I’d done something, anything but…watch him die. And I know we promised, I shouldn’t have worn it, and I kn-know I haven’t said anything about him, and I didn’t want to, which was stupid, you talk about how much you miss him all the time and maybe you thought I didn’t feel the same way. But I just didn’t want to talk about it, so I wore the necklace instead, because it…because it hurts.” His own tears come forward, and he curses his vulnerability. His inability to stay strong for his family.

“Oh, brother.” Bethany walks towards him. “I knew you missed him. Of course you do. I miss him too.” She pulls him into a tight embrace, and they stay that way for a while, sniffling occasionally.

Bethany lets out a shaky chuckle. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this, hasn’t it, brother? A big hug like this. It’s nice.” Hawke murmurs in wholehearted agreement. She steps away first, but gently so. “I can’t quite forgive you for wearing it yet, okay? But I really hope Merrill can fix it.” It’s more than enough for Hawke, and he nods, trying to let himself feel relieved.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It’s been four days since Hawke bumped into Merrill, and he’s become increasingly anxious about the necklace, as much as he trusts her. He’s just leaving The Hanged Man with Bethany and Fenris when he hears his name.

“Hawke, is that you? Hawke! Oh I hope so….”

Hawke glances to the right and sees Merrill walking towards him, excited. Bethany realises who it is, and looks at her too, with an expression he can’t identify. Fenris watches the other elf warily.

“I fixed it! The necklace! Well, not me, but I got it fixed for you.” Merrill produces a piece of soft folded cloth, which she hands over to the older Hawke. “Oh, hello Bethany. Hello Fenris.”

“Hello, Merrill.” “Merrill.” The other two respond. Her face falls, just slightly.

Hawke unwraps the cloth carefully, and both he and Bethany gasp. He almost doesn’t recognise the gleaming silverite pendant nestled within, but the mabari’s details have remained intact, and its hindquarters are their original shape once more, the bend barely noticeable. He gapes at Merrill, whose cheeks have turned a shade redder. “How…how did you….?”

“Master Ilen, from the clan. It wasn’t easy, but I persuaded him to repair the pendant, for some favours in return.” She’s kneading the ground with her toes, hands behind her back.

In the clan? But that means she would’ve had to go all the way back to Sundermount. Several times. And to a clan that was glad to be rid of her. The depth of what she had done for him hits Hawke, and he’s sorry that he ever doubted her. He holds up the woven cord and lets the mabari spin gently, and can’t help but laugh at the mabari’s attentive face and its raised paw, as it glints in the light.

Fenris doesn’t appear convinced. “You would go so far to help someone?”

Merrill’s affronted. “Because that necklace was important to Hawke. I didn’t want him to lose something like that, not when I could do something to fix it.”

Fenris appears slightly mollified, but Bethany’s looking at Hawke, then at the mabari, then at Merrill. Her expression from earlier has been replaced with – relief. And gratitude. “Thank you, Merrill,” she says slowly, meaning every word. Then she’s murmuring to herself, and Hawke catches the words “haven’t seen him this happy in a while”.

“Yes Merrill, thank you. Thank you so much. What was it….ma saran?” “Ma serannas,” Merrill answers breathily, blushing even harder now, and Aaron feels that sensation again, the bucket. “I think…I think he would’ve liked you, Merrill,” he blurts out. “Carver, that is.”

Merrill looks at him, eyes wide. “Really? Me?” Her eyes are curious and sparkling, and the bucket tips. It starts with who Carver was, in essence – a younger brother, a twin, a warrior. Then he tells Merrill about the village brawls, playing with dogs, a little boy swinging a giant sword, ready to protect the family with his big brother. Bethany listens at first, soon adding in her own memories She tells Merrill about a girl Carver had met – an elven girl – and how he’d acted around her, puffed up and shy all at once. And like tarnished metal polished anew, Hawke allows himself to remember his brother again.

“We should move on, Hawke. The Qunari won’t wait for us forever.” Fenris is looking at him oddly, though maybe not in a bad way. Maybe it’s because of the sudden spillage of stories – it’s the most he’s talked to anyone since before Kirkwall. But he’s right, they should hurry. “Right, Fenris, sorry. Merrill..could you keep this for a while more? Wouldn’t want it to get damaged again.” Hawke passes the necklace over to Merrill one more time, and she accepts it gladly. “I’ll keep it safe, Hawke, I promise.” Her eyes are sparkling again, and he knows what she’s feeling, the knowledge of a friendship, a connection, being made. “T..thank you, for sharing with me about Carver.”

Carver definitely would have liked Merrill. Hawke smiles. “You’re most welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you're like me and Hawke/Merrill friendship is the manna from heaven that graces your content-starved mouth, let me know and I may write more in the future! (I may write more anyway, pfftt.)


End file.
